The key to recovery after an SCT is exercise, exercise, exercise. I was diligent, earning paper “M&Ms” (standing for “Motivating and Moving”) that got taped to my door for my efforts. I MacGyvered an exercise bike more to my abilities... or lack thereof (PIC).

Ten days after the transplant my numbers started to rise across the board, from white blood cells to platelets (a couple blood and platelet transfusions were necessary along the way, though). Even my taste buds, which the chemo wrecked, started to come back sooner than I expected. Three weeks after I entered the hospital I was sent home to our pad in Houston.

Just two weeks after that--along with countless blood draws--I was given the go-ahead to return to Albuquerque. Thankfully by this time the taste buds were back to snuff and the docs gave me permission to eat fresh fruits and vegetables again—salads had never tasted so good.

My weight is 158, just a few pounds shy of normal, and that central IV line in my chest was removed prior to departure. Laura no longer has to do daily chest maintenance (PIC).

Note the very bald head. We shaved it, as I was starting to look like a diseased catfish with patchy whiskers and random head fuzz. But it was the spiraling follicle galaxy that generated the most laughter and put an end to all hair on my head (PIC).